


Words, scars and choices

by ArthurtheGatekeeper



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Loid Get's posioned, Loid gets bridal carried at one point, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, as he Deserves, because Choice, but not a lot, injured Loid Forger, it's that they choose to stay, they're soulmates but like, we don't get into it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27585131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArthurtheGatekeeper/pseuds/ArthurtheGatekeeper
Summary: Yor had words printed on her wrist. Twilight had a scar in place of one. Anya had none at all.But in the end it wasn't the marks that mattered. It was that you choose to stay. It was that you loved them. Soulmates or not.
Relationships: Anya Forger & Loid Forger | Twilight, Anya Forger & Loid Forger | Twilight & Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Comments: 10
Kudos: 86





	Words, scars and choices

‘Soulmates,’ Twilight thought as he scrubbed the fake letters from his wrist, ‘Are useless.’

The scar under it just reinforced the thought.

 _It’s written in Ostanian._ They’d whispered. _He’s a traitor._

He wasn’t. He wasn’t even close to one.

He didn’t even remember what the words said before they'd been destroyed. He didn’t want to.

Spies didn’t get to have soulmates.

They worked to make sure that everyone else got the chance too.

‘A soulmate,’ The Thorn Princess thought as she rinsed her hands of blood, ‘Would be a hassle.’

She just wanted to do her work.

“Being single? At that age? That’s just sad. Can’t wait for your soulmate forever right?”

She didn’t care about the words on her wrist.

“Uh… No. I was just thinking how beautiful you are.”

But her heart still beat just a little quicker when the man in the tailor shop said them to her.

He didn’t react overtly to her words. But- if all he had was _excuse me_ then maybe it just didn’t register.

Still by the end of the night she had a husband.

So maybe there was some stock in soulmates after all.

“Are you soulmates?” Swan asked.

 _You don’t ask people if they’re soulmates._ She wanted to snap at him.

“No.” Loid answered. “And I will admit I am somewhat grateful.” The interviewers shifted back slightly. Taken back. “I think it’s important that we can show Anya fate doesn’t define who we become. That choice and effort are what matters.”

Swan’s face soured as the other two appeared to accept his answer.

That answered that then.

“Mommy.” Tears flowed from Anya’s eyes.

‘I wonder,’ She thought as Loid ushered them from the room. ‘If his first wife was his soulmate then.’

She must have been amazing. If Loid had chosen her for real.

But now destiny gave her Loid. The perfect cover. The sweetest daughter. A kind and hardworking man.

_It’s okay if we’re not soulmates. I’d have chosen to be right here anyway._

“Tch.” The scientists made a disapproving sound as they looked at her wrist. “No mark. Won’t be able to tell if the powers extend to her soulmate.”

 _No mark. What a shame._

It echoed. Followed her.

 _Well it’s no surprise is it? Who would love an experiment?_

_Probably won’t live long enough to be important to anyone anyway._

She ran. The words fueled her feet.

 _No mark._ She heard Papa think as he helped her into a dress. _Lucky._

She blinked up at him in surprise.

He cocked his head. Brow furrowed slightly. _What now?_

“No mark.” She explained. Twisting her wrist to prove it.

“I see that. Sometimes they come in later.” He assured.

“If it doesn’t?”

“Then that’s fine.” He ruffled the towel through her hair.

“But then that means no one loves me.”

The towel stopped. She couldn’t see him through it.

“No. There are lots of kinds of love Anya. Just because one kind isn’t written on your wrist doesn’t make that true.”

He pulled off the towel and brushed through her hair quickly. Efficiently.

“Bond loves you. Do you think he loves you less because you don’t have _woof_ written on your wrist?”

She shook her head.

“Do you think Yor loves you less because her words aren’t there?”

She shook her head again.

“Soulmates. Fate. All that stuff. It’s silly Anya. Marks promise love without work and people spend their whole lives chasing that. But that’s not how it works.” He gathered the hair on her left side and tied it up. “Fate is never enough on its own. Something more is needed.”

He tied up the other side just like she liked it and she turned around to face him.

“What’s something more?”

“Choice Anya. You have to choose them.” _And they have to choose you._ She heard. His thumb smoothed over her blank wrist. “And you get to choose whoever you want.”

 _You’re lucky that way._

“What’s your wrist say?” She asked. Instead of asking _Do you choose me?_

_I don’t know. I don’t care to._ He pat her on the head. “You’re missing spy wars right now you know.”

She considered him. The way her hair sat comfortably on her head and the hair ties on his wrist.

"I choose you Papa." She pat his knee.

He pushed her towards the living room. "Go on."

 _I want to stay with them forever._ She heard her own words echo in his mind. _Spies don't get to choose._

_'But,'_ He mused, cleaning the bubbles from the tub, _'I'm glad I found you Anya.'_

She smiled and turned on the television. 

Loid staggered in. Pale as a sheet. She hadn’t thought it was him. The keys shook in his hand. Not even in the lock. Anya had opened the door for him.

“Loid?” She stood and hurried over to him.

“I’m fine.” He waved her off, barely managing to put his hat on the stand. “Flu. Just order something for dinner.” He requested.

She would not be deterred. Her hand pressing against his forehead as he gripped the counter for balance.

“You have a fever.” A high one at that.

“I know. I’m going to take a bath.” A good idea.

She manhandled him into a chair. “I’ll draw it. You won’t have any idea what temperature it is right now.”

The fact he didn’t protest was a concern on its own.

“Papa’s cool.” She distantly heard Anya awe. 

She checked the water once it had filled before grabbing the thermometer from the cabinet and hurrying out.

He looked asleep. She couldn’t remember ever seeing Loid sleep. He'd never napped on the couch. But he shivered violently as she stepped closer and cracked open his eyes. So, she supposed, she still hadn’t.

He pushed himself up pasted her. Staggering towards the bathroom dizzily.

“Loid let me take your temperature-“ She requested, chasing after him.

“Yor.” He stopped. Gripping the bathroom doorframe. “I’m a doctor. I’ll be fine. Just. Take care of Anya.”

She squeezed the thermometer between her hands and nodded.

The door closed.

A moment passed.

Another.

Anya tugged at her dress.

“Where do you want to eat tonight?” She asked. Trying to ignore the Loid sized worry on the other side of the bathroom door.

Anya paused. Considering. “Rico’s!”

“Sounds good. Go grab your coat.”

Anya was explaining the plot of Spy wars eagerly to her right up until they reached to door.

Then she got very quiet.

“Anya?” She asked as she opened it.

Anya ran to the bathroom. “Papa? Papa?” Her little fists banging on it. "Papa!" 

Her heart started to race. “Loid?” The door was locked. “Loid are you alright?” She rattled it.

There was no response.

The door lock provided little resistance as she shoved it open.

He made no shriek or protest at her arrival. 

Unconscious. His head limp against the rim.

Anya peaked in around her legs.

“Anya open the door to my room please.” She said rushing in. Throwing a towel over him an half a mind of modesty. Carrying him to her bed.

Anya’s eyes were wide as she watched her throw the covers over him.

_She must be so scared. Seeing her father like this._

“He’s going to be alright Anya. Why don’t you go watch Spy wars?”

_Gods I hope he’s going to be alright._

She gripped the doorframe tighter and shook her head.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Can you grab the thermometer and towels then?”

She nodded and raced to grab them.

_Come on Loid. Stay with us._

His breathing steadied and his temperature dropped and she remembered how to breathe.

And then she remembered how much of Loid she’d seen.

_I didn’t look. I didn’t look._

She hadn't looked.

But that didn’t mean her hands hadn’t been on his unclothed back and under his knees and-

“Mama?” Anya yawned at the doorway. Swaying with sleepiness.

“He’s getting better dear. Let’s get you to bed hm?”

She nodded. Asleep before she hit the bed.

When she got back he’d rolled over.

His wrist- always covered. Now naked. And on display.

_You shouldn’t look. It doesn’t matter._

_You already choose to say no matter what is or isn’t there._

Excuse me. You’ve been staring at me for a while.

And still she looked.

There was nothing.

Nothing but a scar.

 _Oh._ An exhausted giggle worked its way out of her chest. _No wonder he never mentioned it._

His was gone.

She rested the back of her head on the mattress as she sat on the floor.

Maybe it really was his first wife’s. And he’d destroyed it because he couldn’t bare to look at it after she was gone.

Maybe he’d destroyed it because it wasn’t his first wife’s words and he’d loved her so dearly he would have no other’s mark.

Maybe he’d lost it before that.

“Yor?” She blinked awake. Groaning in pain at the crick in her neck.

“Loid?” She turned around to look at him, rolling her neck. “Feeling better?”

He looked better. Even in just the half of the streetlights outside the window she could tell he looked better.

“Yes.” He sat up and the covers fell off his bare chest.

She turned away. Face hot.

“Oh.” He sounded frustrated. “Did I fall asleep in the bath?”

“Yes.” She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the thermometer. Offered it back to him.

He sighed and took it. They waited in silence until it beeped.

He handed it back, confirming his lower temperature.

“I saw your wrist.” She hastily admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“You kept me from drowning in the bath. It’s fine.” His voice calm. Like he genuinely didn’t care at all.

Her fingers fiddled with the sleeves of her nightshirt.

The bed creaked as he shuffled on it. “Just ask Yor. I won’t be upset.”

“Did you destroy it or-“ _Or did something else._ She couldn’t finish.

The war. The secret police. Monstrous childhood bullies. Accidents.

There were all kinds of horror stories about ways people’s marks got destroyed.

“No. I didn’t.” His feet touched the floor softly. Wrapped in one of her blankets. “But I would have.”

“Do you remember what it said?”

“No.” His arm snuck out of the blankets. The scarred skin on display. “And I don’t care. I don’t need words printed on my wrist to tell me what to do. Who to be with.”

She tilted her face to look up at him. His eyes distant.

“I’ve seen plenty of couples in my line of work who think that just because they’re soulmates everything should be easy. That fate should be enough. But it isn’t. Relationships take effort.” His hand wrapped around the scar. “And everyone has to choose to stay.”

_For better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health to love and cherish til murder we part._

“I don’t plan on going anywhere.” She told the thermometer. “I’m very grateful for our arrangement.”

“As am I.” His hand squeezed her shoulder. “Thank you for taking care of Anya.” He stood and made his way to the door.

“Of course.” He smiled back at her before closing the door behind him.

There were words on her wrist that might have been Loid’s.

They might not have been.

It didn’t matter.

Because she choose to stay.

"Yor?" He called from the hallway. "Next time remember there's a key to the bathroom on top of the doorframe."

"Oh." A tired wisp of a laugh escaped her. "Sorry about that."

**Author's Note:**

> I know Loid has Magic Poison resistance. So imagine the kind of dosage he received to be that affected. Thanks for reading!


End file.
